


Hopelessly Devoted

by solohux



Series: Tumblr Prompts & Drabbles [7]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, M/M, Redeemed Ben Solo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solohux/pseuds/solohux
Summary: "There was a part of me that loved you once. I know there was,” Hux says, his tone agonisingly neutral. “Perhaps it just died with the part of you that loved me."





	

**Author's Note:**

> from a prompt I got from the lovely [@the-glasses-are-my-disguise](http://the-glasses-are-my-disguise.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. Thank you so much! ❤️
> 
> the fic can also be found on my tumblr [here!](http://solohux.tumblr.com/post/152266352029/so-i-have-a-prompt-idea-could-you-do-something)

> My head is saying, " _f_ _ool, forget him!_ "  
>  My heart is saying, " _d_ _on't let go! Hold on till the end."_  
>  And that's what I intend to do,  
>  I'm hopelessly devoted to you.
> 
> \- Grease, 'Hopelessly Devoted To You'

Hux has always been an excellent time-keeper.

He knows it’s been 3.2 hours since he was forced into this pitiful excuse of an interrogation room and strapped into the chair at the desk in the centre of the small room. The overheard lights are beginning to make his eyes ache, too bright and too leering for someone to be sat under for so long. He twists in the chair, wrists chained to the armrests, ankles fastened to the legs, a numb pain in his coccyx from being sat in the exact same position for too long.

But his gaze stays locked on the _mirror_ on the wall in front of him, hoping his cold stare can pierce through the glass and stab whoever is watching him.

Hux hopes it’s Ben Solo watching him through the glass, gracing Hux with his _oh so heroic presence._ Ben is the man behind the fall of the First Order, behind the collapse of a regime meant to last for centuries and, most importantly for Hux, the man behind the murder of Kylo Ren.  

Looking back, Hux thinks he would have _much_ rather had an enemy shoot Kylo through the heart, the bolt killing him instantly. At least Hux would have a body to bury, a grave to visit to speak the words he’d been too afraid of saying when Kylo was _alive._ It was foolish of him to think, _really_ , that Kylo could bed him every night, that they could cling on to one another after the sex, and Hux would be able to keep his feelings under his control, that he _wouldn’t_ become hopelessly devoted to a man whose heart may as well have been a black hole.  

But Kylo Ren is a storm that Hux feels honoured to have been ruined by.

Just when Hux starts to believe he can feel Kylo’s strong hands resting on his shoulders, the sound of the door unlocking captures his attention, shifting his cold stare from the window to the crack that’s steadily getting wider as the door opens. There’s a sudden chill on Hux’s skin, but he does his best to ignore it; it feels like the same sensation that would consume him when Kylo was nearby. But Kylo is _gone._

But as soon as Ben Solo walks into the room, Hux struggles to keep his frigid mask on. He feels the colour drain from his face, supposing that it’s exactly like he’s seen a ghost. Ben’s hair is shorter than Kylo’s ever was, though it manages to keep his ridiculous ears covered, his hair showering down in large curls over the sides of his face. It takes an awful lot of Hux’s remaining energy to remind himself ‘ _this is not the man you love.’_

“I do beg your pardon, but I don’t believe we’ve met,” Hux retorts, looking down his nose at Ben, who pulls the chair out and sits down across the table from Hux, looking too large for the chair.

“ _Hux_.” Ben sighs.

Hux exhales in a shuddering breath at the sound of his name on the lips that have kissed his sorrows away too many times for it _not_ to be shameful. Idly, Hux had somehow hoped that Ben’s voice would be different to Kylo’s, so he wouldn’t have to sit here and listen to the silky tone of the voice that has the power to melt him down into a blubbering mess of needs and wants.

Alas. Hux’s mask stays on.

“It’s Ben Solo, isn’t it? I recognise your face from a few of our holorecodings. Talented in battle, I believe,” Hux says, recalling the first time he’d seen _Ben_ cutting down his Stormtroopers with slick movements of his blue lightsaber. Hux had dug his nails viciously into his own palm, hoping to wake up from the nightmare of seeing _his Ren_ with a blue sword, protecting the scavenger and the traitorous Stormtrooper from blaster shots.

“It’s ‘ _Organa-_ Solo’, actually,” Ben says, voice unnaturally steady.

“Ah,” Hux says, sitting back in the chair. “My mistake. I should’ve guessed. Wouldn’t want to eliminate _Mother dearest_ from your life, would you?”

Ben’s expression remains completely neutral, which only adds to Hux’s reminders that this isn’t Kylo; _his_ Ren would’ve throttled him by now.

“She was reluctant to send me in here, you know,” Ben says, lounging back on his chair, knees spread to help his gangly legs fit under the table. He picks at his nails, looking down and around, _anywhere_ away from Hux’s gaze. “She knows. About us, I mean. What we were.”

“ _We_ weren’t anything,” Hux spits, sitting forward as much as his restraints will allow. “Ren and I had a non-exclusive arrangement for tension relief and the management of specific, biological urges.”

“Fuck. We used to _fuck_ , Hux,” Ben states. “You overcomplicate things.”

Hux blushes, though with anger rather than embarrassment. How _dare_ this _stranger_ insinuate that they’ve slept together. Then again, Hux has never been so familiar with the softness to a stranger’s eyes before, the way his lips curve when his anger is growing, the way he picks at his nails when he’s nervous.

Hux clears his throat. “Whatever you’re here to do, do it, and leave.”

“They want to know where the last remnants of the First Order are hiding out. Bases. Names of officers. Coordinates, if you have them.”

“And they believe I’d spill all of that information out to _you?”_ Hux scoffs.

Though Ben doesn’t shake his head, his eyes tell Hux ‘ _no’._

“They…know of how I used to interrogate enemies of the First Order. They want me to do that to you. Delve into your mind. Take what they want.”

Hux’s entire body twists in the chair, feeling _afraid_ for the first time in a _very_ long time. Forcing himself into Hux’s mind was something that even _Kylo_ had never done and yet the Resistance, with their positive morals and heroic antics, have asked this _boy_ to get his hands dirty for them? Disgusting, Hux thinks.

“Well?” Hux says, holding his head up. “Get on with it then.”

Even without any sort of mystical powers, Hux can almost feel Ben’s hesitation. He bites his lip, standing up from the chair and taking a step back, the table still between them. The nervousness shows in the trembling of Ben’s hand as it’s raised in the air, fingers spread, ready to force his way into Hux’s mind.

Hux braces himself, every joint in his body seizing up as he prepares himself for mental violation. He can’t help but think of Kylo, of their time together, of the words that Hux was too much of a coward to utter. Keeping his eyes open, Hux finds himself reliving the moment he’d watched Kylo Ren die and Ben Solo gain control of the body that Hux knows every inch of; the most sensitive spots, the maps of moles and freckles and scars that cascade over perfectly pale skin, the curves and contours of muscles and bones that Hux has trailed his fingers over whilst still in post-orgasmic bliss.

‘ _I loved him,’_ Hux thinks, hearing the words echo across his mind with such emotional charge that Ben groans _,_ concentration faltering. ‘ _I loved him more than anyone else ever had or ever could. I was his in every way that I wanted him to be mine. I was lost to him the moment he first touched me, like the sea dragging shells off the beach, softly at first before letting them drown in the depths of the dark ocean. I drowned for him, I let the sea drag me under, let the water fill my lungs until I couldn’t breathe whilst he sat safe and dry on the rocks, watching me fall. But I didn’t mind. He was safe. That’s what mattered. He ripped me apart, but put me back together again, made me a better man. And I never told him what he meant to me. I loved him. I still love him.’_

Hux doesn’t notice he’s crying until the hot tears spill down his pale cheeks, jolting him back into reality, hearing Ben gasp and collapse back against the wall. The heels of his hands dig into his temples as he tries to regain his breath, but Hux’s vision is blurred by tears that won’t stop falling, dripping down onto his thighs.

“You…loved him? _Me?_ ” Ben says, staring up at Hux with pain-filled eyes.

Hux doesn’t look up at him, he keeps his head bowed, his red hair obscuring Ben’s view of his eyes.

"There was a part of me that loved you once. I know there was,” Hux says, his tone agonisingly neutral. “Perhaps it just died with the part of you that loved me."

The sound of Ben’s angered cry forces Hux’s gaze up just in time to see his hands fling outwards in opposite directions, fists clenched. The table between them is torn in half, the wood creaking as its forcibly broken, the two halves cast aside with a loud bang. Hux wriggles in the chair, trying to get as far away from _Ben Solo_ as he possibly can, but the chair is nailed to the floor. He’s trapped, frozen in place, a doll to be used however this madman wants.

But Ben is suddenly dropping to his knees, resting his head in Hux’s lap, tears flowing down his blushing cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Hux,” he cries, grasping the thin material of Hux’s jodhpurs between his fingers. “If I’d known—. I thought you— _we_ —were _nothing._ I didn’t want to leave you, wanted to take you somewhere safe but I—.”

Ben’s words are lost in his sobs, burying his face in Hux’s thighs, his body wracked with sobs.

Hux twists his wrists against the restraints, feeling an almost crushing urge to run his fingers through Ben’s hair to comfort him, to try and calm him down, but all he can do is look down at the man he’s supposed to hate, feeling nothing but a wild admiration spreading through his chest the longer he’s in his presence.

Ben sits up, and places his hands on Hux’s wet cheeks, cupping them, wiping away falling tears with his thumbs.

“I love you,” Ben says. “Armitage Hux. _I love you.”_

Hux lets out another sob, though a joyous one this time, seeing _his Ren_ kneeling before him and not the Resistance’s false hero wearing the skin of the only person that Hux has ever wanted.

And Ben brings their lips together in a kiss that’s never felt so desperate, so _passionate,_ so filled to the brim with devotion, that Hux feels light-headed. Whether the man in front of him chooses to call himself Kylo Ren or Ben Solo, Hux craves him with every fibre of his being, with every inch of his skin itching to be touched and _held_ by the strong hands that he calls home.  

Hux has always been an excellent time-keeper.

He knows it’s been 742 days since Kylo Ren was taken from him. Today is the first day he’s felt anything but _grief._

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I sorta took the title from the name of the 'Grease' song, [but listen to this cover and imagine Hux pining over Kylo...](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4R0I72f4d4)
> 
> Thank you for reading! My tumblr is [@solohux](http://solohux.tumblr.com/) ❤️


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